


A Four Letter Word

by shambling



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, going native
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19129180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shambling/pseuds/shambling
Summary: The problem with going native is that you find yourself having, well, feelings.





	A Four Letter Word

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this entirely on the Telegraph interview with Michael Sheen, in which he states he chose to play Aziraphale as in love with Crowley because of fan fic.

It is a Sunday, the sun is shining and Aziraphale is reading the paper and sipping his tea. Crowley sprawls opposite; on - for want of a better word - the sofa. His head is hanging off the seat and one leg is slung over the back of it, and he’s achieved a position comfortable only to snakes, cats and Crowley. But he is, at least technically, on it, and he is watching Aziraphale upside down, over the bottom of his glasses. Aziraphale knows this without having to look because it’s just what Crowley does, and because, when you’ve known someone for the better part of 6000 years you don’t always have to look to know what they’re doing.

“Do you love me?” Crowley says suddenly, breaking the peaceful tranquility. “Of course I do my dear.” Aziraphale replies, not looking up from his paper, still engaged by an article about avocado farming. Crowley is not satisfied however. “No Angel, me, do you love me?” This is enough to prompt Aziraphale to lower his paper, peer over the top of his own glasses. “Of course I do my dear. Even though I love everything, I’ve, well, I suppose I’ve had rather a soft spot for you for quite some time.” He trails off and Crowley looks pleased. Aziraphale smiles fondly and picks up the paper again, but before he can find his place on the page Crowley speaks again.

“I think I do too you know.” A long pause, “love you, that is.”

Aziraphale smiles a small smile. “That’s nice dear.”

“At least,” the demon continues, “I care about your happiness and general well being, I quite like doing things that being you pleasure and I give weight to your opinions. And, I like it when you’re around. You’re my best friend. There’s no-one else I’d rather fraternise or save the world with. Is that what it is?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replies with a small contented smile, “I’d say that’s about the measure of it.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll have to forcibly discorporate you.” Crowley growls, and they’re back on firmer footing. “Who would I tell?” This sends Crowley quiet for a bit, thinking. Aziraphale reads another few lines. Honestly, it’s not really going in anymore. He can hear Crowley shifting on the sofa, the soft rustle of fabric.

“It feels like something should’ve changed” Crowley is now very nearly upright, and is giving Aziraphale a very intense stare. 

“Why would anything have changed?” Aziraphale asks, “it’s been like this for hundreds of years.”

Further silence. Comfortable silence.

“Yes Angel, I suppose it has.”


End file.
